Beaches and Blood
by Capt40
Summary: Willow/Spike. The Scoobies take a vacation, and Willow/Spike try to hook up. Wackiness of all sorts ensues, with a few ass-whooping scenes for good measure. Not the most angsty fic ever written.


Title: Beaches and Blood

Author: Capt40

Email: dgise@yahoo.com

Rating: R (language and sexual references – smut's not my writing game, and there's none here, but Anya needs an R to be any fun at all)

Summary: Willow/Spike. The Scoobies take a vacation, and Willow/Spike try to hook up. Wackiness of all sorts ensues, with a few ass-whooping scenes for good measure. Not the most angsty fic ever written.

Spoilers: Through The Gift.

AU notes: Buffy didn't die. Tara and Willow were friends, rather than lovers.

Feedback: Heck yes. Please. First time I was feeling wacky enough to write something like this, and I've been wanting to dabble in W/S for awhile.

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"And we haven't left yet, why?" Xander.

"You've got to be kidding. Of course." Dawn.

"Bloody hell." Spike.

"Eep." Willow.

"Dear Lord." Giles.

"Ooh, orgasms in the water!" Anya.

"Don't you guys think it will be fun?" Buffy.

          She hung up the phone. They all began chattering at once.

          The Scoobies were going to the Caribbean.

          Glory had been dead for a month; for whatever reason, Quentin Travers had decided that the Scoobies deserved a reward. How Buffy talked the Watcher's Council into paying for the excursion, no one ever knew. She refused to tell, except to smile evilly whenever Travers' name came up. Giles' own inquiries to the Council were met by stifled British witticisms and blatant muttering about the 'damned American Slayer.'

The day before they left, frantic packing took hold. At the Summers residence, three women had the house covered in outfits and suitcases. Tara, reclining in the living room, had to laugh at the snippets of conversation rolling down the stairs.

"Dawn, did you take my sweater?"

"Will, where'd you put that peasant blouse?"

"You are so not wearing that bathing suit, young lady. The Sports Illustrated swimsuit collection is not approved vacation-wear. Neither are cocktail napkins."

"Will, I love you, but we have no room for that much incense. Not to mention what it will do to the drug sniffing dogs."

"Buffy, six bottles of shampoo is not necessary."

"What? I like my hair to have body."

"D'you think we could hit the mall tonight? I saw this thing in Victoria's Secret…"

"NO!" Buffy and Willow shouted together.

By the time they finished half of the packing, the girls were starving and completely drained.

"You guys okay?" Tara asked as they slumped down the stairs. Each of them collapsed on a different piece of furniture. Still semi-incapacitated from her bout with insanity, she had decided to forego the vacation and enjoy the quiet of the empty house.

"This is so not relaxing," Buffy said. "This whole bag limit thingy is stupid. What is it, duck season?" Tara giggled. The others looked at her blankly.

"Do you think he'll like that velvety green skirt on me, Dawnie?" Willow asked. She knew it was time to come clean with Buffy, before they got on the trip and ruined the vacation by accident.

"The who liking what on the who now?"

"Definitely, Willow. It's way sexy."

"Sexy? Who are we … ohmygodyou'regoingtohitonGiles!" Buffy's words rushed out, dissolving Willow, Tara, and Dawn into a fit of giggles.

"No way, Buffy. I mean, yeah, crush in high school, but so over it."

"Crush in high school?" Dawn said. "Eeewww…"

"Shush, Dawn," Willow said. "Older men know things…" She waggled her eyebrows; Dawn was suddenly captivated.

"Oh no," Buffy said softly, finally getting it. "Not him. You haven't … you didn't … did you?"

"No." Willow's voice was tinged with sadness. "He doesn't know. But Dawn and I were thinking this would be a good opportunity to see if something might happen." Even mentioning taking action made her stomach roll and dip and gave her the distinct urge to scream "Mayday!" She knew she wasn't the shy high school girl who hid her attraction from Xander, but somehow her stomach hadn't gotten the memo.

"With Spike."

"Yes, with Spike. Are you … do we have a problem?"

Buffy thought about it for a minute, scrunching her eyebrows as she reviewed the mental list of why she hated Spike. Unfortunately, none of it suggested that he would be a bad boyfriend.

"Why?" She asked, stalling for time.

"Okay, let's review," Dawn said. "One: very sexy, serious bad ass, cool leather coat. Two: last relationship lasted a hundred years. The man can handle commitment, just like our Willow. Three: no longer an evil demon. Four: very sexy. Did I miss any?"

"Nope," Willow said. "Those are my reasons. You can't tell me you didn't see this coming, Buffy."

"I kind of blocked it out, like repressing memories that haven't happened yet. But yeah, I guess I can see it. And really, now that he's done obsessing over me, he's almost fun to have around." She thought about it. She had been slowly reconsidering the vampire since Glory tortured him. Spike's behavior with Dawn, protective and brotherly, had continued after his obsession with Buffy died. In her eyes, it was worth big points. More than anything, that had convinced her that he could be a good person without a soul. It made sense, since some of the truly evil creatures had souls of their own, that a creature without one could turn out good. Once you got past the annoying Spike-ness, he actually wasn't even a bad guy.

"So you approve?"

"Conditionally, I guess," she said warily. Then her face broke into a mischievous grin. "So how do we plan on making this happen?"

          Spike thumped the dashboard to the rhythm of the Clash as he rolled down the highway. He left a week early, leisurely driving across the country to their departure point. Planes, vampires, and sun made for shorter vacations.

          The thought of this trip made him nervous. If not for Red, he never would have gone along. He still despised the Scoobies, Chubs in particular. He rather liked Demon Girl, for speaking her mind, and Glinda had always been nice to him. Dawn he liked a lot, and Slutty, though they grated on each other, could almost be tolerable when she bent over at the right angle. The Watcher had redeeming value as an Englishman, but not much else. The Scoobies as a whole, though, were intolerable.

          Then there was Red. His Red. Or not His Red, which was the real problem.

          She had forced him to get over Buffy. He felt bad, seeing her still so lonely without a replacement for wolfboy. Everyone knew Glinda wanted her desperately, but she just couldn't swing that way. Unfortunate for her, seriously fortunate for Spike. He had no idea how to win her over, though. He knew she was hardly interested in him; besides the problem of being in the Slutty discard pile (a lonely place to be, knowing the blonde), whenever they were together she said very little to him. They barely interacted at all.

          He couldn't keep his eyes off her, of course. Sometimes, it seemed like her lithe, gorgeous body called to him to touch it. He felt bad, staring, figuring he would get noticed by her or Glinda or Dawn. The Slayer and Chubs wouldn't see. They were too wrapped up in themselves. But someone else might tell them, and he would be on the business end of a stake or an axe. Neither would be pleasant.

          This trip, though, could change that. For the hundredth time he pulled out the wrinkled brochure. Isla Delta had it all. Bars, clubs, casinos, restaurants. Serious nightlife with little chance of death or mayhem. If he didn't put a foot wrong and end up vacuum fodder for Chubs or the Slayer, and if he didn't scare her away by coming on to strongly, and if he didn't …

          Spike sighed. This would not be easy.

          They had their own cabin for the six-hour ferry ride to the island. Spike had already taken up residence when the rest of the party came barreling through the door.

          "Xander, I can't believe you," Red was saying as they walked in. His ears perked up. "Hey, Spike. I mean, really, Xand."

          "It wasn't that bad." His face was the color of Rudolph's nose.

          "Oh, right," Dawn said. "It could have been worse. I mean, you two could have kept going at it after you fell out into the aisle."

          "Working on those frequent flyer miles, eh, Chubs?" The vampire grinned ear to ear. Willow and Dawn failed to suppress their laughter.

          "Shut up, Junior. I don't see you getting any, so you're in no position to criticize."

          "Ooh, look at you. All manly sex machine talk. I've gotten more…"

          "Stop!" Willow said, not wanting to hear a litany of Spike sexcapades. _Until I get to be one … no, Bad Willow, looking for a relationship, not a sexcapade …_

          "And honestly, Anya," Giles said, coming through the door with the ex-demon, "the walls of those bathrooms are paper thin. Everyone could hear … er … that is …" He noticed the other four staring at him, and desperately wanted to drop his bags and clean his glasses.

          "Yes, well, that's part of the excitement. Generally, when Xander and I have sex in a public place, it heightens the orgasms."

          "Really?" Dawn asked.

          "Anya, you are not answering that," Buffy said, as she came through the door last. "This discussion ends now."

          Anya stepped behind Buffy and nodded slyly to Dawn. Spike chuckled softly. This might actually be fun, the vampire thought. He looked over at Willow, whose jeans fit snugly in all the right places. Definitely might be fun.

          Oceana, the resort they stayed at, turned out to be everything Willow had promised when she found it on the Net. Staying on the Watcher's Council dime, each of them had their own rooms, except for Xander and Anya, who shared a suite. Willow had an intense desire to jump on the enormous bed, but decided to fulfill it in Dawn's room. The two of them were bouncing away, mussing the aqua blankets, when Buffy and Anya walked in.

          "Whoa, check out the view, Dawnie," Buffy said, walking to the balcony. All of the rooms overlooked the beach, but Dawn's had no trees marring any of the lines of sight. "We can totally spot the honeys from here. Of course, it's night, so no one's there." She looked disappointed.

          "The beaches are empty at night?" Anya asked. Buffy nodded. "I need to go get Xander and…"

          "Hold on there, Anya. Plenty of time for that later. Remember why we're here?"

          "Oh, yes. About Spike. Willow, you should go to his room now and offer him orgasms." The witch turned the same shade of green as her eyes. "What?"

          "I-I-I can't do that!"

          "Why not? He obviously wants you to," the ex-demon said. "Am I the only one who noticed?"

          "Noticed what?" Dawn asked.

          "He takes every opportunity he can to observe Willow, especially her ass and breasts." Willow blushed. "He clearly wants orgasms."

          "Well, I don't," she blurted.

          "Huh?" Buffy said. "Isn't that … kind of … the point?"

          "No! I mean, yes. Well, sort of. I just … he and me and with the orgasms and the sexy vampire is good but the leaving and the end of the trip and all that is bad and …"

          "Willow," Dawn said, cutting her off, "deep breaths." The witch stopped and inhaled. "Good. What she's trying to say is that she wants a relationship, not a turn as a Spike sex toy." Buffy looked at her in horror. "What, like I don't know the difference? Or what a sex toy is? Please."

          "Oh," Anya said. "I don't know if he wants that. He might not." Willow looked horrified. "I mean, he may think that you aren't an appropriate person to use as a sex toy and is staying away. You need to find out."

          "I know," she said, sinking onto the comfy bed and feeling the twisting in her stomach. "I don't know how, though."

          The first official Scooby vacation meeting convened in Giles' room. Xander's room was larger, but no one had any particular desire to see what the couple might have packed.

          "So what are we doing tonight?" Dawn asked brightly. The girls had arranged themselves to force Willow and Spike next to each other, much to the redhead's discomfort.

          "Whoa, slow down there, girl. Some rules first, especially," Buffy looked at Dawn sharply, "for you. Rule one: No unauthorized drinking. I don't care if there is no age limit here."

          "As if I'd do that. Lame," Dawn retorted under her breath.

          "Rule two: No unsupervised wandering without one of us. Rule three: No strange boys in your room and no going to the room of strange boys." Dawn gave her teenager scowl. Buffy knew these rules would be broken at the first opportunity, but she had to at least try. "Rule four: No shopping excursions without notifying the rest of us, so that we can come with. Anybody else?"

          "You best be careful, nibblet," Spike said, his voice intense. "Bad stuff usually settles on these tourist havens, and it looks for rebellious teenagers like you."

          "Been chasing the kiddies awhile, Deadboy?" Xander asked sweetly.

          "Shut up, Chubs. This is serious." He added a glare. Xander got the message. "Are we clear?"

          "Yes, Spike. I'll be a good little Key." Dawn took his warning to heart. She knew he wouldn't deny her any fun unless he had to.

          "See that you do," he said. Reaching into his duster, he pulled out a cigarette and lit it.

          "Spike, could you please not … never mind," Giles said, deciding not to bother. At least he was near the window. "I was actually feeling like a spot of cards, if the rest of you are amenable. This island houses several casinos, one of which is attached to this hotel.

          "Sounds like fun to me," Willow said. "'Course, I don't know how to play cards, and I've never been to a casino. But why not?"

          Heads nodded around the room, and they agreed to go get dressed and meet at the casino.

          The neon lights and loud mingling of beeps, boops, and jangling coins assaulted Willow's senses. It resembled an arcade, though one stuffed to the brim with overweight, middle-aged American tourists and stale cigarette smoke.

          "So what are you going to play, Red?" The other Scoobies had scattered quickly, leaving Spike alone with Willow. He figured he might as well take the opportunities when they arose.

          "Don't know. How do I play one?" Unconsciously, she smoothed the green velvet skirt over her thighs.

          "Generally, pet, you walk over and sit down near it. You've really never done this before?"

          "Hello, underage in America much? Besides, not like I'm generally brimming with riches to shower on the organized crime overlords of the casino empires." Realizing she teetered on the verge of a babble, Willow shut up. Damn you, Buffy. Why did you just leave me here with him? Oh, right. I asked you to. Stupid Willow. She felt her stomach knotting again.

          "Right, then. Guess that makes sense. Want me to show you how it's done?" Not trusting herself to speak, Willow nodded. "We'll try blackjack. Slot machines and whatall are boring, and blackjack is as easy as cards get."

          The cameras placed in the casino used the new digital technology, not bothering with mirrors like the older models. The casino's ruler, though his official title was somewhat nebulous, saw the blonde vampire hovering at a blackjack table on the monitor. He grinned evilly as he lifted the cellular phone.

          "Put him on," he said to the demon who picked up the phone. He heard shuffling, then silence, and knew his master listened. "Good news, my lord. An old friend of ours has arrived. William the Bloody. He appears to be without Drusilla or Angelus, though."

          "Bring him to me."

          "Yes, my lord. Immediately." The phone clicked off. He turned to his assistant. "Please have the pit bosses meet at table 15 in ten minutes." The fledgling nodded and scurried off.

          "So if the dealer is showing less than a seven, and I have 12 or more, I stay, right?"

          "That's right, luv. Because you're most likely to get a ten, y'see."

          Willow nodded. She actually liked this. The rules seemed logical, and she could remember the basic principles without difficulty. It was mostly math, when you came right down to it, and she could do math. The only thing giving her trouble was Spike's hand resting on her chair. Not wanting to be obvious, every so often she would lean back and bump it, sending a nervous tingle shooting through her.

          Bloody hell, if she doesn't just lean back or forward soon… Her rocking was driving Spike insane. He could feel the fiery warmth of her back every time she touched his hand by accident, and it threatened to drive him mad. He could remove the hand from her chair, but he wanted to touch her too badly, and each time she rocked he feared she wouldn't do it again. It was torture.

          Willow played a dozen hands, winning twenty dollars. She had just started to get into the rhythm and feel her luck come on when Spike stiffened behind her.

          "Spike. Long time." Willow spun around, ignoring the dealer's motion for her bet. The voice, menacing and evil, came from a large, relatively normal man. Except for the royal blue skin and red orbs for eyes. He had ten large men standing around him; something about them immediately tipped her to the fact that they were more than human. "I'd like to speak with you, if I might. Privately."

          "Don't think that's a good idea, mate. Tryin' to show my lady a good time, you know?" He gestured to Willow. "Why don't we set up a meet for tomorrow night?"

          "Perhaps you've forgotten about me, Spike." Willow cast around desperately, but saw no sign of the other Scoobies. "I suggest you bid the lady good evening, and come with us. Now."

          "You suggest?" Willow said, her anger rising. She called up the magic and felt it roar through her veins. Her eyes turned black.

          "Red. No," Spike said calmly. "Not this time. Go find the kiddies, and take them home."

          "Spike," she growled. The rage had her now. "You aren't going anywhere."

          "Ooh, she's feisty, isn't she?" he extended a blue hand. "My name is Dex, young lady. I'm an old friend of Spike's. I assure you, we mean him no harm. That's a lovely cliché, don't you think?" He extended his hand. She stared at it with disgust until he pulled it back.

          "I prefer this one: touch him and I'll kill you myself." Her voice, deep and menacing, drew the attention of several other players, even over the casino din.

          "Red, I told you, not this time." They locked eyes. "I can handle myself."

          "What's this about?"

          "I'll explain later. Just do what I said, pet. It's for the best right now."

          "Did you see where they took him?" Buffy asked. The Scoobies had retreated to Giles' room.

          "Through a door in one of the walls," Willow said. Every minute that passed with Spike absent made her stomach twist even tighter. She wasted the better part of an hour rounding them up, and Spike was still nowhere to be found.

          "I'm still not clear on one thing," Xander chimed in. "Assume they dust Spike. We care why?"

          Willow gasped. Dawn and Buffy glared daggers at him. Anya smacked his arm. Giles watched his charges with amazement, then realized what Willow felt and opted to rid his glasses of any possible dirt.

          "Oh no," Xander said. He knew Willow's reactions well. "You've gotta be shitting me, Wills. Spike?"

          "Yes, Spike! What is your problem, Alexander Harris? He helped save all our lives against Glory. He's always …" She stopped mid-sentence. The menacing look directed at him made Xander freeze. "No, you know what? I don't have to explain myself to you. Even if this was a bad thing, which it isn't, can you begin to imagine the number of stupid things I've seen you do and just let go by? Or supported you? Why are you such an ass?"

          She spun on her heel and strode out of the room.

          "You know I love you, Xander," Anya said once Willow had gone, "but sometimes you are very stupid."

          "What?" His face drooped as he looked around at his friends. "Am I the only one that thinks this is a bad thing?"

          "Well, Giles hasn't called the Gallup people yet, but otherwise, pretty much," Buffy said. "Face it, Xander. Spike's in. He's a Scooby, and much as I wish he hadn't, he's earned it."

          "So he wasn't good enough for you, but he's good enough for Willow?"

          "No," she said with a shake of her head. "I didn't want him, and he wasn't then what he is now, and you know both of those things. Besides, there are many, many guys good enough for me that I wouldn't let anywhere near Willow, and you know that too."

          "Umm, not to interrupt … well, actually, sort of to interrupt, shouldn't we argue this out later and go find Spike now?"

          "Don't worry about me, nibblet," a wheezy voice said from the doorway. "I'm jus' fine. Need a smoke, is all." With that sentiment, a bruised and battered Spike collapsed in the doorway with a thud.

          Xander found her on the beach, staring out at the gentle waves as they crashed ashore.

          "Spike came back," he said, standing behind her and looking down. She turned her head to face him, and he saw her tear-stained cheeks. "He's okay. A little beaten up, but Buff got some blood in him and put him to sleep."

          "I know. I saw him on his way in. You guys took care of him?" Xander nodded. "Okay." She turned back to the ocean, not wanting to get up. The relief washed over her and, as cried out as she felt, more tears leaked from her eyes. Xander sat down and wrapped a warm arm around her.

          "Willow?"

          "Yeah, Xand?"

          "I'm really sorry. I was an insensitive male human and deserve much evil done to me," he said, repeating Anya's instructions verbatim. Despite herself, Willow chuckled at his phrasing.

          "What did Anya threaten you with?"

          "Said she would handle her own orgasms and tie me up to watch."

          "Ouch."

          "The girl doesn't lack for style. I am sorry, though. You … surprised me."

          "Right. Because advance warning would have prevented it. Xander, you're my best friend, but you are very predictable."

          "It's just … I worry about you, you know? You're so special to me. And Spike does not scream safety. I mean, he's a killer."

          "He's not. Not anymore. But it doesn't matter. Nothing's going to happen anyway. Believe me, if there's one thing I know about, it's one-sided romantic involvement."

          "Do you think I would worry if I thought it couldn't happen?"

          Willow leaned into his embrace, sobbing softly.

          "You're beautiful, and smart, and fun. You're the best person I've ever met, Wills, and I've known some good ones. If you really want him, he'll come around. And if we can't make it happen, then there's something really wrong with him, beyond the obvious formerly-evil vampire schtick – which is so cliché for the Scoobies, by the way."

          "We?" She pulled away, surprised, and looked her friend in the eye.

          "Remember, when we were nine? Golfing lessons?" In spite of herself, Willow had to smile at the image of a dumbfounded Xander, holding a seven-iron in the middle of his living room, watching as a golf ball tore through his mother's knick-knack cabinets. The carnage to the ceramic figurine population had been unparalleled, but Willow had taken the blame to prevent an … unpleasant … reaction from Xander's father. "You were right. All you've ever done is support me in dumb things. Should I continue? Eighth grade and the six boxes of Twinkies in an hour? Freshman year and frozen margaritas in a topless blender? How about third grade? The hopscotch incident?" 

          By the time he finished, Willow's tears had disappeared and she was howling with laughter.

          "So I guess this one time, you can be the Xander and I'll support you." She nodded, still attempting to get a handle on her mirth. "Are we okay?"

          "We're okay. Thanks, Xand."

TBC…


End file.
